


The Mariner

by babyblueglasses



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyblueglasses/pseuds/babyblueglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark and the crew of the S.S. Shield find themselves setting a course for Jotun Isle in this saucy tale of murderous mermaids and shameless first mates amidst the salty sea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Let's not take ourselves too seriously. ;)
> 
> This fic is exclusive to ao3 and cannot be posted anywhere else.

“I need you to get things taken care of before we reach Jotun Isle, Tony,” Steve said with harsh impatience.

“I don’t see why you’re worried over such a small island,” Tony said indignantly. “It’s hardly even on the map. This is about my bid for captain, isn’t it?”

“Your sad attempt at mutiny? No,” Steve said. “This is about my first mate needing to get the ship ready before we hit stormy waters.” His long red and blue coat caught in a cold gale, whipping loudly against the wind. He kept his noble blue eyes trained on Tony.

Tony stared dully at him in blatant disbelief, ignoring the winds that were blowing into his half-opened shirt, tearing at his large sleeves. “Better get to it, Tony,” Clint yelled mockingly from the crow’s nest. 

“You can get down here and scrub the deck then!” Tony yelled up at him. 

“What? I can’t hear you!” Clint yelled, grinning widely as he settled back down into his nest. He kicked his boots up over the side. 

The boat rocked as they hit a particularly strong wave. Tony righted his footing, adjusting the gold pistol that hung from the belt around his britches. “Don’t make me ask again,” Steve said. 

“Or what? You’ll throw me overboard?” Tony asked, throwing his hands up.

“Keep talking that way and I might have you walk the plank,” Steve said, leaving. Tony waited until he vanished behind the Captain’s doors to impersonate him, strutting out his chest while waving around an imaginary coat. Bruce shook his head as he bit back a smirk. 

“He really will make you walk,” Bruce said. 

“He’s too soft to make me walk,” Tony replied flippantly. 

“I don’t know about that,” Bruce said. 

Natasha stood up from the cannon that she’d been cleaning. “I’d like to see you walk,” she said hopefully. 

“Everyone get back to work,” Tony barked.

 

By nightfall the ship was in pristine condition. The winds had calmed, but before the time that Jotun Isle had appeared on the horizon line it was time to set anchor. They would make landfall when there was light. 

The waves gently rocked the ship beneath the vast, star-speckled sky as the crew congregated together. “They’ll drag you to your death,” Clint said above the sound of the waves lapping against the hull. “They’re deadly beautiful and they’ll say anything to pull you under.” He paused, grinning mischievously. “They’ll _do_ anything to pull you under.” He flexed his arms above his head, stretching. “But the only one here that has to worry about falling for that is Tony,” he said teasingly. 

“That’s a stupid, unfounded tale with no evidence and you know it,” Tony said. “Besides, I’m capable of thinking with my head too, you know.” He took a long swig of his rum, glaring at Clint. 

“Yeah, is that why every brothel we make port near knows your name? What was the name of that woman that came to collect your debts last time? Madam Piper?” Clint mused.

“Madam Pepper,” Tony said without enthusiasm. 

Rhodey laughed. “Yeah, she got you.” 

“She charged me twenty percent interest for a late payment,” Tony said bitterly. 

“Well, at least the mermaids don’t charge late payments,” Rhodey said. 

“There’s no such thing as a mermaid,” Tony said. 

“Still, do us all a favor and don’t get yourself drowned by one, would you?” Natasha said. 

“Yeah, I’ll try not to get drowned by an imaginary creature,” Tony said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m not going to fuck a fish. I have a couple standards, alright? And one of those is no fish.” 

“I don’t know,” Clint said. “You might change your mind when you see one.” In the dim light the shadows slipped along his mischievous smirk. “They were so beautiful that the gods banished them to the sea with envy.” 

“Right,” Tony said cynically. “And when was the last time you saw Asgardia appear beyond the Rainbow Strait? The gods don't exist either.” 

“You keep saying that,” Clint said. “But one of these days we’re going to sail right into it.” 

“And when we do I will begrudgingly acknowledge that you were halfway right,” Tony said, taking another swig. 

“If you don’t get taken by a mermaid first,” Clint said, snickering. 

Tony playfully jabbed him on the arm, and their teasing came to an end. The crew stayed huddled together for hours more, trading tales from the days before they’d joined together aboard the S.S. Shield. None paid any attention to the watcher in the dark waters below them, or heard his descent below the waves as his long, scaled tail curled back into the depths, contemplating the lively mortals above.


	2. Chapter 2

“I can handle it,” Tony said. He took the machete from Rhodey. “You can help the crew.” 

“Are you sure I should leave you on your own?” Rhodey said, only half joking.

“Yes,” Tony said with exasperation. “I can handle a little scouting, thanks.” 

“Alright,” Rhodey said. As his feet sunk into the heavy sands, he looked back. He caught a glimpse of the sun swinging off of Tony’s machete as the man hacked through the dense greenery. 

 

Tony muttered to himself as the gold blade swung gracelessly into broad leaves and low hanging branches. “Mermaids,” he said disdainfully. “They should spend their time fearing snake bites or something more practical.” He took his frustration out on the leaves, chopping and hacking at even the smallest inconveniences. Ten minutes later he was reasonably calmer. 

The machete met air. He paused, pushing at the dense contortion of green matter suspiciously. The blade drew back a curtain of leafy vines, revealing a small clearing. He stepped in with caution. 

It appeared to be empty. There was a pool of water in the center of the clearing, reflecting the clear blue sky above. The clearing was tucked intimately away into the forest. The lush yellow-green grasses around the pool only extended a few yards out before the dense tree line swallowed all land. 

Tony sighed with relief. This was fresh water conveniently close to the camp. It would save them a lot of work. They could easily stock up before setting sail again. 

He strode up to water’s edge, bending down. He dropped the machete beside him. The water reflected his rugged face back to him, imitating his roughish grin. It seemed peculiar to him that he could not see any deeper than the surface. There was only him and the sky. 

Brushing it off, Tony knelt forward and dipped in his hands. The water was frigid. He cupped his calloused fingers, bringing up a sloppy pool of water that dribbled onto the ground and down his chin as he sipped eagerly. Violent coughing soaked his shirt a second later.

“Shit,” Tony said, flicking his wet hand dismissively towards the water. Little droplets smacked into the surface, rippling. It was salt water. “There goes that plan,” he said, wiping his hand on the dry part of his shirt. He angrily wiped his fingers back and forth as though he was brushing away the whole experience. 

It was only then that he felt a prickle at the back of his neck. His head snapped up, scanning the clearing. Seeing nothing, he turned over his shoulder. “Ha-ha-hmm,” a pleased, malicious laugh said behind him.

Tony stumbled over himself scrambling away from the pool. Falling to the ground, he rolled himself over and back onto his feet as fast as his body would allow. Adrenaline rocketed through him, tunneling his vision as he sought out the source of the voice. It trickled down his spine, pooling supernaturally at the base as he heard it again. 

He spotted the source within the pool. It was in the form of two emerald green eyes, glaring up at him from just above the water’s surface, framed by dark black locks of wet hair. Tony’s heart pounded in his chest and in his ears. Was this home to pirates? Was he about to be ambushed? He had to get back and warn the others. They’d have seen their ships the night before, they’d have a jump on them, it was probably already too late, “Don’t be afraid,” the dark voice cooed. 

Unable to help himself, Tony corrected the voice. “Says the person hiding in a pool? What? Practicing for All Hallow’s Eve?” He scoffed. “How many of you are there?” 

“One,” the voice said innocently. 

“Yeah right,” Tony said, turning to leave. 

“Wait,” the voice commanded. 

Tony’s body went rigid. What was it about that damn silky voice that incapacitated him? Slowly he turned back. “What?” He demanded. 

The being glided forward in the pool, rising his head up from the water until his pallid, skeletal collarbones showed. His tail breached behind him in one long serpentine twist, the black-emerald scales sucking away the sunlight that touched them. A forked fin, speckled with tiny spots of gold sunk back beneath the surface. 

“You’re not real,” Tony asserted. His feet refused to move for him, but he was certain. This could not be happening. Those were all just stupid tales for children and foolish sailors. No one really believed in the Island of Asgardia or Giant Chitauri Squids, or…mermen. 

The creature lifted his hand from the water, casually examining his long fingers, their pointed black tips. He had a haughty, arrogant smile that was as beguiling and impossible as the rest of him. “Come a little closer and I can show you just how very real I am.” 

Tony’s chest was rising and falling frantically beneath his soaked shirt, his eyes wide with shock. “Come,” the voice commanded. 

“No,” Tony said, but his voice came only as a whisper. 

“Come,” the creature commanded again, and Tony could only watch his tail slide up from the water, watch the clear beads slide down his shimmering scales, watch the flecks of gold along that forked tail, they were so peculiar, so oddly mesmerizing… "I said come.” 

Tony heard Clint’s jeering voice laugh in his head. “I can’t,” Tony said. 

“Don’t you want to?” The voice asked, playful and pouty and condescending all at once.

“Yes,” Tony said, surprised to hear the words leaving his lips. 

“Then what are you waiting for,” the creature said, arching back into the water. His head vanished as his pale chest rose and followed in the arc, and Tony definitely noticed that muscular abdomen, was acutely, painfully aware of how long his eyes lingered on that pale flesh as it melded seamlessly along pointy hipbones into dark scales that disappeared beneath the surface. 

Suddenly Tony was staring at an empty pool. And he was struck with a baffling ache, a heart-wrenching panic to follow, to extend the moment just a second longer, please, just anything for it not to end, he would give anything, just give him that voice back, let him see those bewitching eyes again…

Tony took a deep breath and looked back at the hacked vines hanging in the distance. If he heard that voice again he knew he would be damned. Trembling, he took a step towards them. And another. The ache screamed out murderously. 

Then he remembered the machete at the water’s edge. 

Tony turned to look back over his shoulder.

“Looking for something?” The creature asked.


	3. Chapter 3

There he was again. The merman was really, truly, there and the malicious ache that had been calling Tony a traitor just moments before lulled into a charmed serenade, beckoning Tony towards the water’s edge before the merman could disappear again. Tony spun around.

His feet halted when he saw the creature lift up the blade, inspecting it in the sunlight. The offending glare temporarily blinded Tony. 

“That’s mine,” he said.

“Is it?” The merman said, flipping his tail to push himself back into the center of the pool. The voice sent a shiver down Tony’s spine that he rushed to ignore.

“Give it back,” Tony demanded. The merman turned his dark green eyes towards Tony without moving his head. He studied the man from the corner of his eye. “Just toss it back.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

Tony bit down hard on his cheek, distracting himself from the peculiar sound of that damn voice. “Then you can rot in that pond.” 

The merman frowned as he turned his attention back to the blade. “Come here and I shall return it to you.” He glanced up expectantly.

“Toss it there,” Tony said, pointing at the yellow-green grass. The merman’s fin twitched irritably above the water. “You shouldn’t even exist and I’ll be damned if I let the crew be right about both you and me. Toss it on the shore.”

The merman twisted his tail in the water, his lips twitching unpleasantly. “Come here or I will not be returning it. “ 

“Forget it,” Tony muttered to himself, taking a heavy step backwards. If he could just get out of this bewitched clearing and leave these strange cravings behind he would be fine. He took another step backwards, biting against his cheek until he drew blood. 

“It certainly looks valuable,” the merman said as he retreated. “I’m certain your comrades will believe that you lost it to a creature that, as you say, should not exist.” Tony’s foot tripped. The merman grinned, pleased with himself. “All you have to do is take it from my hand,” he said, dragging his long, pointed black nail across the blade. The water from his hand dripped back into the pool. 

“Yeah, and the moment I do you’ll turn on me,” Tony said. “I’m not a fool.” 

“Just stubborn then,” the merman said, watching the reflection of his nail trail back and forth along the blade with interest. He swam leisurely to the edge of the pool. Tony watched as he extended his hand, the blade pointed outward. “Come here and take it.” 

“Drop it there.”

The merman’s eyes darted towards him, his patience cracking like a marrowy bone. “I said come here,” he snapped, and his voice spun around Tony like a whirlpool, sending his mind abuzz with longing. It felt like there were slender fingers at his back, pushing him forward.

Tony took a tepid step towards the water. That felt good. He took another. That felt really good. Why did it feel that way? The warmth blooming in him, it was intoxicating. Suddenly the creature’s scales were catching Tony’s starry eyes again, flooding his mind with questions. 

He sat down two feet from the waters edge. Tony reached out his hand. The merman looked at his hand and up again at Tony’s face. This man was ruggedly attractive, with a roguish scar along his cheek. The merman liked his dark eyes and his soaked and undone shirt were not unwelcome. 

He lowered the hilt of the blade down towards Tony’s hand, watching the man struggle against the desire to watch his pale chest surface from the water. He took his time rising up from the surface, letting the water slide down along his open chest. Tony jumped minutely when he felt the hilt in his open palm, and relief as he felt the weight of the handle sinking against his hand as the merman released it. As he took his own hand away his mind raced to the crew that was waiting. The merman’s hand shot out and curled around Tony’s wrist, winning the blade in one fell swoop. 

Tony felt its dull side press against his throat as the merman pinned his arm behind his back. “What shall I do with you?” 

“There’s this new concept going around,” Tony said, “called catch and release. Call me crazy but maybe you could give it a try.” He grimaced against the blade, feeling his adam’s apple brush against its edge. “It’s really popular with fish,” he said tactlessly. 

“Hmm,” the merman said, pretending to consider his offer. “And what happens when I release you? Do I just catch you again?” He did not let Tony answer. “I assure you that if I were to release you, you would most certainly come back again. Should you like to give it a try?” 

“Mhmm,” Tony pushed out. The blade dropped from against his throat. He shoved forward, eager to put ground between himself and the creature. The machete landed close to his feet. 

He stared up at the merman with wide-eyed disbelief. The merman leaned back into the water, throwing his head back to expose his throat. “As I said,” the merman declared, “you will come back.” 

He dove down into the pool, flipping his forked tail before disappearing completely. The moment his tail slipped from eyesight Tony was rattled by a panic to see him again. It was worse this time, a thousand times worse. He leaned down and grabbed the blade. Then he ran.

He ran through the hacked path, ignoring all sense of self-preservation with the blade swinging at his side. 

Rhodey looked up in time to see Tony burst from the forest, flushed and soaked in panicked sweat. “We have to get back on the boat,” Tony yelled as he ran to them. 

“What’s going on?” Rhodey asked. “Tony, are you alright?” 

“Listen, I know what you’re going to say but I saw one. I saw a merman.” 

The strained air let out like a balloon as the group relaxed all at once. “Yeah, yeah, very funny, Tony. You got us,” Rhodey said.

“I’m serious.”

“Tony, we were just teasing you,” Natasha said. “There aren’t really mermen or mermaids here.” Clint made a face of disagreement behind her.

“What did it look like?” Clint asked.

“Long black tail, dark hair, pale skin, green eyes,” Tony said, thrilled to have someone believe him. He heard the dreamy lilt in his voice as he said green but he chose to ignore it. “There’s a pool in the woods. I’ll show you.” 

They all looked back at Steve. His face was set with pained resignation, carefully considering Tony’s demeanor. “Alright,” he said. “Only if we all go together. It shouldn’t be a problem if there’s a whole crew of us and it’ll put Tony’s mind at ease.” 

“This way,” Tony said, leading them towards the tree line.

 

“We’ve passed this tree three times,” Natasha complained. “Give it up, Tony. The joke is over.”

“No,” Tony said, feverishly looking around the brush. There should’ve been a clear, hacked line to the pool. Instead his work had vanished completely. The trail led to a dead end in the forest. There was no curtain of vines. “I swear,” Tony said. “I saw one. It wasn’t that far from shore. There’s a pool in the forest, there is.” 

“You got us,” Bruce said. “We get it. We’re sorry for giving you a hard time. Now let’s get back to shore.” 

“But I---“

He felt Rhodey’s hand on his shoulder. “I think maybe you’ve been at sea too long, Tony. Let’s get back, have some food. You’ll feel better.” Tony let out a heavy sigh. Despite the relentless ache in his chest, he had to admit that maybe he had dreamed up the entire thing. It would be a better explanation than the impossible. The path through the forest led nowhere. Maybe he’d become delusional, standing alone in the woods.

 

That night around the campfire Tony could not save himself from replaying the scene again and again in his mind. The flames danced in his glazed eyes. “You alright?” Clint asked. It was unlike Tony to be so quiet. 

“Yeah,” Tony said. 

He lost interest in the conversation around him again not a minute later. Could he dream up something so vivid? Was he capable of making it feel that real? 

He also thought, with a sick pang of regret, that he had missed an opportunity. So perhaps it was a murderous merman in that pool, but there was absolutely no denying that he was…yes, Tony would like to see him again. If not just to prove to himself that he had seen the creature, but also because now that he had seen one, he had to concede that Clint was right. They were hauntingly beautiful. 

If the merman had let him walk away once, perhaps he could walk away again. He listened to the heavy waves breaking against the shore. Was the merman out there in the waters somewhere? What would it feel like to run his fingers through that slick black hair? What would those nails feel like against his skin? Those sharp teeth? 

He felt a tiny bit sinful thinking that, but with the immediacy of danger gone he could think of the creature with longing, imagining him into something tamer than he truly was. 

“Tony?” Clint asked again. He had less patience this time. 

“Yeah?” 

“Tell me what you saw,” Clint said, dropping his voice down low. They turned towards each other, ignoring the rest of the group. 

“Like I said, he had long, dark black hair. It was wet, you know? But I think it would have a bit of a curl to it, right around the temples, if he stayed out in the sun. And he had these eyes like emeralds, better than any of the loot we’ve ever recovered. And he had these nails, these glossy black nails like---“

“Davy Jones,” Clint swore, cutting Tony off. “You’ve got it bad.” 

If Tony felt his face flushing crimson red he ignored it.

He shrugged.

Clint wetted his bottom lip anxiously, rubbing his hand against the thick stubble along his face. “They’re deadly, Tony. They _will_ drown you.” 

“He let me go,” Tony said.

“What do you mean?” Clint asked suspiciously.

“I gave him that nonsense about catch and release the flaky inlanders are so fond of. He let me go.” 

Clint shook his head. “No, Tony, he did not let you go. Look, I was joking before. You’re smart Tony, don’t fall for it. Merpeople don’t keep people as pets, Tony. They drown them. They lure them in and they drown them.” 

Suddenly Tony and Clint were aware of the heavy silence around them. The crew had abandoned their own conversation to listen in. From the concerned looks on their faces, Tony judged they felt similar to Clint. 

“We should set sail tomorrow morning,” Steve said.

“It’s fine,” Tony lied. 

“Merpeople aren’t just out to drown sailors,” Steve said. “They’re an omen of storms and death too.” 

“Now you believe in them?” Tony asked.

“I never said I didn’t,” Steve said. “I’ve seen a lot in my years.” 

“Promise us you won’t go looking for it,” Rhodey said. Tony looked down at the ground. They couldn’t possibly understand the ache that had seeped into his veins since he saw the merman. It wasn’t the sort of thing that you could just brush off and forget about. 

“He won’t have to,” Clint said. The announcement made the others tense. They shifted uncomfortably around the fire. “They follow their prey.” 

“He was in a pond,” Tony said. “Maybe he’s stuck there.” Tony remembered violently coughing the water down onto his shirt. “Or maybe not. It was salt water.” 

“There may be caves underwater connecting the island to the ocean,” Bruce suggested.

“In that case no one goes inland alone,” Steve said. 

They let the order sit in silence for a while before cautiously turning the topic elsewhere. Tony found it impossible to listen. Those slick scales were slipping through his mind, and questions. So many questions. 

By the time that they’d turned in for the night Tony found his thoughts turning more and more bold, plotting out intricate scenarios for the merman. Maybe the experience had been an illusion, and the reasonable part of him hoped it was so, but either way it was the steamiest illusion that his brain had ever blessed him with, and he was going to play it out until it frayed at the seams.

Tony drifted to sleep listening to the waves hit the beach, imagining that they would carry a beached merman with them. 

 

The merman sang like an angel in his dreams. A dark, murderous angel, but a cripplingly beautiful one all the same. That song, it was so mesmerizing, and so vivid against the lap of the ocean waves. Each note had such haunting clarity, it was like that melody was slipping down into the pumping muscle of his heart…

His eyelids fluttered open. He could hear the song.

As quietly as his hurried legs could take him he rushed to the shoreline. His eyes frantically scanned the waves, and then again. Wave, wave, wave. He sank with hollow disappointment as he realized that the ocean was devoid of any life. All he could make out was the reflection of the moon on the surface. The singing had stopped. 

He stood at the shore for a while, tending to his heartache. Who was he, being disappointed with a fantasy? He knew better. As soon as they got off of this island, he’d make it up to himself. They’d reach port again soon. He’d put this all behind him. He would forget about it. When the waves had reasonably calmed him he turned to walk back inland, towards his warm bed.

The song. He could hear it again. Faintly, but it was there, and in his rush he had gotten it all wrong. It wasn’t the ocean, it was coming from the forest. 

Tony prayed that no one had been awoken in his absence. Hell, he didn’t care. He ran. He ran as fast as his legs could take him towards that song, frantic.

As tree branches cut his face he wasn’t sure whether her was running to prove himself right or because it was the only impulse he seemed capable of carrying out.

It was beautiful. Even with his labored, gasping breaths, the drum of his feet snapping through the brush, the song whistled above the breeze, the branches swaying in the moonlight. 

“Hello.” 

Tony stood at the edge of the clearing, his chest heaving up and down as he sucked in breath after labored breath. His arms were hunched upwards, and the merman thought, a tad more muscular than he’d remembered. There was an unusual tattoo on the man’s chest, but with sailors’ taste for ink, it was hardly worth thinking about. He’d cut his face in his panic, and the merman thought with pride, injured himself in his desperate desire to return. The merman could make out a thin line of blood in the dim light, painted from his cut cheek and down his neck.

Tony said nothing, staring enraptured at the merman. The moonlight slid down his dark, glossy hair and across his supernaturally pale body. Tony would’ve found the ghostly pallor unattractive on anyone else. He could see the forked tail gently treading against the surface as those sharp eyes watched him, looking him over just as shamelessly. 

“You may come here,” the merman announced. Hearing his voice, Tony realized that he wasn’t singing anymore, and what a tragedy that was. Carefully, curiously, Tony edged towards the dark pond.

“You’ve cut yourself,” the merman said, amused by the man’s speechlessness. 

“Yeah,” Tony said. The merman held out his arms, and though Tony recognized that it was a bit unwise to sit within reach, he confused the gesture for his earlier fantasies. He sat down comfortably. 

The merman’s cold fingers reached out for his cheek. He closed his eyes as they pressed to his skin. His fingernails ghosted behind the chilly, wet pads of his fingers and down Tony’s hot skin. He heard the water ripple and pool as the merman wetted his hand again, wiping away the blood. “You may call me Loki,” he said. 

“Loki,” Tony said.

He opened his bright eyes, and in the glint of the moon Loki could see that the sailor possessed an intelligent mind. It almost seemed a shame. Almost. 

“I’m Tony,” the man said. It sounded like an after thought. The mermaid hummed in reply, taking his hands away. With disappointment Tony watched them sink back below the surface. “So,” he said, finding his voice again. 

“It would appear that I am right,” Loki said.

Tony smiled uncomfortably, glancing away. He didn’t want to concede the point but he was at the edge of the pool, in his own sweat from a panicked run through the woods. No fool would argue. 

Instead Tony’s eyes wandered back over to the merman’s odd collarbones, and as he helped himself to an unabashed gaze at the merman’s chest he could feel the haughty satisfaction of the creature. “Your singing,” Tony said, when the silence had gone on too long. 

“Did you like it?” His tail flipped against the water, creating a splash. 

“Yes,” Tony said. Now that he was here he wasn’t entirely sure of what to do. The awful ache was gone with the merman in his sight. His head was clear again. Loki tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. Tony lifted his head as he heard the song rise again. 

Loki’s voice was a steady, masterful tenor that held each note with simple ease. Tony found his heart stilling, lulled into tranquility. The melody drifted along, long and unfaltering above the windy rustle of the dark forest around them. Loki drifted back into the pond, still singing the haunting melody. With one curled finger he beckoned Tony to follow him. 

Tony edged closer to the water, his hands against the edge of the pool. He leaned over the surface, towards the merman. Loki’s tail twisted up from the water, his fin caressing the side of Tony’s face. And oddly, it was not a strange sensation to Tony. Not at all. It was…inviting. Loki’s voice rose one note higher, holding steady. He beckoned towards Tony again, sinking down in the water to his chin. Tony shook his head. Minutely, biting down hard on his lip, he shook his head. 

Loki released the note. It felt like the air had snapped in half.

He lowered into the water, swimming a lap in the pool with his nose just dipping into the water. His green eyes surveyed Tony coldly. Tony swallowed hard. 

Loki chose to sink deeper into the water, just watching. Tony couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

He could think of nothing to say. It vexed him. Words flew so naturally from his mouth. They were so reliable. And yet, he could say nothing. Nothing at all. The merman seemed content to watch him flounder, captivated. 

Tony anxiously reached to his shirt collar, and feeling the fabric beneath his fingers, had an idea. Loki watched with satisfaction as Tony dropped it beside the pool. The man looked up at him to judge his reaction. Loki nodded, tilting his head, gesturing for the man to continue. 

Feeling a bit helpless, a bit excited, and a bit frightened Tony slid the rest of his attire from him. He felt so exposed in the pale light. It was not a feeling he was accustomed to. 

“So you _are_ delighted to see me,” Loki said, snickering. His verdant eyes stared pointedly, shamelessly at Tony’s slowly hardening cock. 

“Are you making fun of me, you fish?” Tony shot back. Loki laughed a heh-hhmm, low and deep in his throat.

“Is it that easy?” He turned over in the water, floating up on his back. “That is dull.” 

Tony was standing there, watching him. He wasn’t sure what to think of the merman. “I shan’t let you get away with that fish comment,” Loki said. “Come here.” 

“Why should I?” 

“Oh,” Loki said, blatantly eying him again. “You don’t want to?” He leaned back down into the water, floating in lazy circles. The silvery light reflected along his scales. He made no gesture when he heard Tony sit down on the ground again.

Tony was intrigued. Curious, and knowing that he was being toyed with, and willing. He wanted to know what this merman was capable of. “So how does this work?” Tony said tactlessly. “What with you having a tail and all.” 

“How crass,” Loki said with spiteful disdain. 

“Well,” Tony said indignantly. He was flustered. He was fucking _flustered_ and that was unacceptable. He would have to make up for it. “I mean I can make you scream tail or no tail---” Loki started laughing.

A snickering, bemused, condescending laugh. “Are you this charming with all your mates?” He laughed harder, dipping back into the water. Tony watched him sink beneath the surface, presumably to regain himself. 

He resurfaced abruptly in front of Tony, grinning with pointy white teeth. There was genuine amusement in those dark sea eyes. Embarrassed, and not to be outdone, Tony lunged forward, hooking his arms beneath Loki’s. He hoisted upward with all his might. 

Loki’s tail was muscular and agile. He swung it from the water, hitting Tony squarely and catapulting himself backward. The splash soaked Tony in cold water. 

“That tactic won’t work,” Loki said with pride. The action seemed to both amuse and wary him. Tony shivered as the water ran down from his hair, trickling along his spine. He was breathing hard. His skin was bristling against the cold air as blood rushed to the surface where he’d been smacked. Tony glared at Loki, slicking his hand back through his hair. 

Loki swam back up to the water’s edge, and Tony had visions of water being spit up in his face. Instead, he beckoned for Tony to lean in closer, despite his being at the edge of the pool. Tony stubbornly refused to move. Loki’s hand reached towards him, and Tony could swear that it glowed in the moonlight, the water dripping from it. His fingers were cold. So cold as they wandered up Tony’s chest, slipping along his neck, just above the hot breath in his throat. He found himself acquiescing, moving to lean in over the pool. 

Those cold fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, sending a shiver straight to his tailbone. Loki lifted up from the water, bringing his lips to meet Tony’s warm mouth, and the man was gasping as that smooth tongue slid into his mouth, gliding along his teeth. He pulled Tony down close to the water, combing his fingers up into the sailor’s hair. The moan Tony made was delightful. 

Tony felt Loki’s wet fingers slide away from both sides of his face and part from his hot cheeks. Loki drifted back out towards the water, smirking. Despite his level face Tony could see that his eyes had dilated until there was nothing but a faint halo of emerald around them. He also recognized a hunger in them that was meant for prey. 

He slid his tail from the water, and as its forked blade slipped along Tony’s face, he watched the man lean towards it, his eyes half closed. He tipped the man’s chin up towards him. “Tell me how desperately you want me.” 

“I’d heard merpeople are vain,” Tony said in a low whisper. “Seems like it was true.” He reached up with shaking fingers to touch the tail. Loki was glaring murderously at him, but now that didn’t seem so frightening. He felt a flinch in the tail as his fingers slid along it, making tiny circles around the golden flecks in it. “Maybe they have a right to be,” he said. With satisfaction he felt the tail flinch again. 

Loki was watching him closely from the pool with uncertainty. “Let me make up for the fish thing,” Tony said softly. Loki’s tail slipped from his fingers. “Please,” Tony said. The cold breeze blew against his back, forcing him to shiver. “Come.” 

Loki’s black tail flipped out behind him as he swam forward. He hoisted himself up on the edge of the pool, sending a small wave of water onto the grass. Tony reached out to finally put his fingers in that long, dark hair. His thumb found its way into the curve of Loki’s chin and as his hot breath drifted across the merman’s skin, Loki blinked. The small gesture made him seem touchable and real for the first time since their encounter. 

Tony grinned as he leaned down to take another taste of that mouth, and yes, those teeth were sharp, deliciously dangerous against his skilled tongue. 

This time Loki let him pull him a little further from the pool, and Tony eased him forward gently, until Loki was against his chest and Tony was wrapping his strong legs around him, determined not to let him go, and if that meant a little more friction, then… Loki’s sharp nails dug in against his shoulder and Tony yelped. 

He looked up at the being over him and was struck by how otherworldly he was. The moon caught around his wet hair and those violent, untamable eyes, and it was killing Tony how relentless his brain was about picking up on and worshipping all these details. There was a question in Loki’s features, Tony just wasn’t sure what it was. He bent down and nipped at the man’s neck before his hot tongue was sliding along his wet skin again and Tony was fucking sighing about it… 

He pushed Loki over and pinned his back to the ground. He could hear Loki’s tail, still within reach of the water, but the being looked up at Tony with his wild hair crowned around his sharp face with something not unlike softness. Tony bent down, pressing his lips to Loki’s throat (a wonderful hmm-heh-hmm that was), and down his chest, and those nails were finally at his back. They would certainly leave scars. 

Tony’s mouth took its time trailing down Loki’s flesh, down to where his narrow hipbones blended into serpentine scales. Tony pressed his lips to the last triangle of flesh and sucked hard. The merman’s back bowed towards him, his hands curling up through Tony’s hair, and that tail twitched, curling back on itself as Loki moaned, roughly tugging the hair trapped between his fingers. 

Tony kept his lips glued to the spot, relishing the feeling of the being finally writhing beneath him, that angel voice of his cracking with want. It was an oversensitive spot, and when he could take it no more he pushed Tony back, gasping. His eyes were narrow and haughty again when Tony looked up from the ground at him. 

“Sing for me,” he whispered in Tony’s ear. His sharp teeth grazed along the soft shell as one of his thumbs circled against Tony’s collarbone. Tony moaned, leaning up against the flesh that kept him pinned to the ground. He was losing himself, and it seemed silly to have boundaries now, and the scales were an unusual texture, weren’t they…”I said sing.” 

“I can’t sing,” Tony whispered. His eyes were barely open, his face inarticulate. Loki’s hand wandered down Tony’s side, dipping in against his hip. The sailor’s skin had goose bumps. 

“Sing for me,” Loki whispered. He pinched Tony’s nipple. Tony shuddered. That finger began slow, torturous circles around the hopeless flesh, drawing out another needy moan. “Sing.” 

“Ohh,” Tony said, his fingers digging into Loki’s back. His voice came out in another shuddered utterance as those lips met the hollow juncture between his shoulder and neck. His breath was frantic, loud, and his own groan was shaking his own ears as those sharp fingers finally paid attention to his cock. They were rough and domineering, and Loki’s breath was right at his ear, beckoning him. 

Loki’s face was cold and precise, with some latent mischievous impulse lurking beneath. He watched Tony’s mouth widen as the man came in his hand, shouting in a broken note. The sailor sank back against the ground beneath him, panting. His eyes were barely open and glossy. 

A smirk curled up into the corner of Loki’s mouth. He blinked, his sharp eyes waiting. Tony wasn’t fully cognizant of him sliding away, back into the water. A strong wind blew through the clearing, rustling the dimly lit trees. “Oh my god,” Tony muttered in satisfaction, still catching his breath on the shore. He sat up slowly. 

Loki was watching him from the pool. Tony felt the breeze at his back, prickling along the tortured skin. And the charge running in his veins, the longing he felt when he saw the merman still watching him, well. He had to have that again. 

Loki recognized the look in the man’s eyes. Had seen it a thousand times before. 

He reached out his hand and found that the sailor took it, grinning impishly. 

“Come,” Loki whispered. He tugged at Tony’s hand. The man bent over the pool, watching him with feverish eyes. Loki swam a little closer. He leaned up, his wet lips parting Tony’s as he wrapped his arms around the man’s back. Tony’s mouth was so open and eager in his. Loki’s lips were soft and playful and Tony leaned down closer to chase after their teasing way. He thought nothing of the arms tightening around him. 

Loki pulled the compliant, eager body in towards him, kissing the sailor harder as he sank beneath the surface. His lips were gentle, teasing, and oddly reassuring. They were so warm in that cold water. They were promising Tony something as they held his, weren’t they? 

The moon reflected perfectly in the still water’s surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I've left some room for hope and ambiguity to spare some heartache, but my personal feeling is that mermaids are not so sentimental. Comments/critique/what worked for you are very welcome and appreciated. I hope you enjoyed!


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